Today we have a guest post from Catherine Brunelle of FacingCancer.ca and 
Bumpyboobs.com.
In my family, food has always been important. Food is more than just a meal: it is a ritual and a reason for social gathering. But you know what else food was in my family? A pain in the backside.
When I was just a kid, I used to watch my mother making tomato sauce on the weekends. She’d have the large stainless steel pot on the oven, and inside there would be tomato puree bubbling steadily. It would simmer for ages, and the house would fill with that beautiful smell of warm tomatoes and basil. Then when it was finally time for dinner, she’d serve it* with spaghetti to myself, my two brothers and my dad.** Thinking of those meals still makes me drool…add in some mozzarella and I’m in recollection heaven.
But then one day, I guess when we were deemed ‘old-enough-to-not-cut-off-a-finger’, it was announced that my brothers and I were now expected to make at least one meal a week.
Which is precisely when food became a pain in the ass.
At first I started small: eggs. Every ‘Catherine-Made’ meal of the week was fried eggs with toast. Eggs, eggs, eggs. This went on until very loud grumbling came from my Dad. So I switch to hot dogs, and that lasted for about 3 weeks before it was banned as a weekly habit.
So what was I supposed to do? I had to learn how to cook. Like, properly cook.
I took out the big stainless steel pot and a recipe book. Opening to the weathered page with the tomato splashes, I read the long list of sauce ingredients.
Oh my God, there were so many ingredients. And steps. And then, more ingredients! But somehow, I found myself eventually staring at a pot of simmering tomato sauce. And actually, that was quite exciting.
I stood by the stove and waited.
I stirred.
I got bored and looked out the window.
I pulled it off the element when it began to explode with red splashes.
I waited some more.
And then, eventually, I tasted.
It was nothing like my mother’s tomato sauce. Not at all. Instead, it was really, really sour.
That’s not the only meal that ‘went sour’ when I first learned how to navigate the kitchen: attempting chocolate chip cookies (not one of the weekly meals) created flour explosions and mountains of dishes; the smoke detector was constantly beeping; fish was overcooked; chicken was underdone; and that time I tried home-made pasta from scratch was just ridiculous. I think I broke the machine by not properly cleaning out all the sticky dough.
But eventually I mastered that darn-tooting tomato sauce, and now I can make it in my sleep. As time passed, things improved and cooking became a ritual in my life. I was proud to share my efforts at family table.
Fast forward about 12 years to 2010 when I was 27 (almost 28) and diagnosed with breast cancer.
Things changed fast in so many ways. If you are reading this blog, then you know how everything changes. On top of all that, food once again became a pain the butt when I learned about estrogen, and chemo reactions, and the debate over soy, the challenge of gluten . . . my kitchen was flipped upside-down and my habits were challenged.
But you know what? My kitchen also became my personal first-line of defense. After treatments ended (and the staff waved good-bye from the hospital doors. No. Not really.), I decided to re-examine my approach to food. I thought, “If I don’t do anything else I’m going to incorporate into my diet these cancer-fighting, crazy healthy but also totally annoying vegetables, spices and nuts that I really think are boring and/or gross (i.e. mushrooms).”
It was a learning process that created some surprising change.
I’ve been trying to give more attention to the fruits, veggies & cancer-fighters, from falling in love with kale chips; reluctantly buying the way-too-expensive organic blueberries; incorporating more broccoli; learning, begrudgingly, to tolerate mushrooms; and finally becoming friends with eggs. (I used to make eggs for my family, but I never used to eat them myself!) Of course I didn’t change all my food choices, but I added in some extra-good layers on top of what was already being eaten. ***
And with a little bit of trial and error, I was cooking with cancer-fighting foods.
So if you are wondering where to begin, I suggest you start with eggs and see what happens. Then get yourself a cookbook and follow the instructions. Soon you’ll be upgraded to spaghetti sauce, and from there you’re totally Kicking Cancer in the Kitchen. 
My prediction: in time, as you learn the recipes by heart and leave the books on the shelves – at least until Kendall and Annette put out their second edition, cooking will become your everyday part of life, an excuse for family gathering, and maybe even a lovely new ritual.
Good luck, and thanks for having me in The Kicking Kitchen!
Catherine (@Bumpyboobs)
~ from www.FacingCancer.ca and www.Bumpyboobs.com
*Don’t worry, we helped with the dishes.
*Oh boy, could I tell you a story about how my dad convinced me to start eating tomato sauce (before I realized it was delicious). Actually, I’ll tell you right now: He ladled it over my hands when I held them over the pasta, and said: “eat it!” And I remember being surprised at two things: one that he had just poured tomato sauce on me, and two, that is really did taste good.
*** which includes cookies, cheese, and gelato. I’m a sucker for that gelato.
